Mad about Mushrooms . . .

A new way of looking at myself

I never really thought it would happen to me.  I'm so careful.  But it did happen, and I'd like to share some thoughts about mushroom poisoning with you.

The day started off like any other vacation day.  We were enjoying ourselves at a cool little B&B on the southern Washington coast.  The facility was cute and well-appointed, and it featured a mushroom-themed dinner on the second night of our visit.

Like other guests at the B&B, we spent our day exploring the sights of the area.  We took camera in hand to snap shots of the various fungi we would discover along Highway 101 and its intersecting back roads.  It had been years since we'd visited this area, and we really enjoyed it.  The old growth woods were certainly inviting, lush and relatively free of litter, and it was a spectacularly clear and beautiful day.  Although the mushrooms weren't abundant (thanks to a lack of significant rainfall), there was enough variety to hold our interest even to the point of foregoing lunch and relying on dinner to satisfy our appetite for the day.

That night we were treated to a delectable 4 course meal that featured 2 mushroom appetizers (one of which included slices of raw Matsutake), a salad topped with mixed, lightly sauteed Chanterelle and Bolete mushrooms, an entree of braised beef short ribs and giant sea scallops with Porcini mushrooms, and finished with a mushroom-free but scrumptious frozen chocolate mousse with salted caramel, chantilly and hazelnuts dessert.  What could be nicer, we asked ourselves as we tucked ourselves in between the layers of our luxurious bed.  

A Bolete is offering a feast to those who dine here in the forest.

Our Fall "Tune Up"

It's fall, and we've performing our annual tune up of all things mushroom.  We've cleaned our baskets and knives, reviewed our mushroom diary, perused our resource books.  We concluded the tune up by sorting/updating our mushroom hunting gear and accessories: forest maps, emergency first aid and food kits, towels, compass, whistles, camera, altimeter, flashlights, and so forth - gosh, we've been busy!

These lovely Woolly Chanterelles shared the landscape
with the showy red-purple leaves of Black Mountain
Huckleberries and with the Vine Maples which are just hinting
of their vividly colored autumn foliage to come.

Make 2018 the Year that You Participate in the Wonderful World of Mushroom Festivals

It's that wonderful time of year again, when the enthusiasm and expertise 0f mycological societies across our great land combine to host mushroom festivals in celebration of the fruits of the forest floor and of the dining table.

As is our custom, we're presenting a list of the festivals-fairs-walks, etc. which cause the mushroomer's pulse to throb and surge as we soak in the pleasures of all things fungi. 

A cautionary note:  Although we make every effort to be correct in our details, please contact the sponsoring group of the event that you choose to attend in order to verify that the event is as we've shown it. 

 

What was in your mushroom basket
this year?

Great News: NAMA foray in Salem, Oregon in October

Since the early 1960s the North American Mycological Society (NAMA) has been holding forays in locations as diverse as New Hampshire, Texas, Arkansas and Louisiana.  This year, we're delighted to report that the annual NAMA foray is scheduled in our own backyard:  Salem, Oregon.

 

Downtown Salem is our go-to place for Birch Boletes

We, like the seasons, are transitioning.

As are the seasons, we’re in transition.

We began our mushrooming careers in the late 1970's, using our tiny cabin near Brightwood on the slopes of Oregon's Mt. Hood as our base of operations.  While Steven fished the beautiful Salmon River for the then-plentiful Summer Steelhead (now virtually unknown, thanks to the ODFW), I began researching the mushrooms I encountered while hiking the multitude of trails on the mountain.  Steven got interested, too, and soon was taking time out from his fishing to join me in my forays, and we gradually expanded our network of "spots."

When we moved to the southern Oregon coast, our mushroom careers blossomed, and we continued mushrooming on trips to our cabin as well as other places we happened to visit in Canada and the USA.  It's been a marvelous hobby and adventure, and we've enjoyed every minute.

Now in our "Golden Years," we concluded some time ago that we needed to consolidate and do a bit of downsizing.  For several years, Steven has needed regular medical care at Oregon Health Sciences University (OHSU), and we've essentially commuted at least three trips a month to the Portland area from Port Orford, an eleven-hour round trip.  We came to the difficult decision to sell our beloved home and property on the southern Oregon coast, and to purchase a smaller - but still woodsy and rustic - home on the Sandy River, just about a mile from our Brightwood cabin.  The cabin was regretfully sold, too, since it didn't make much sense to have a cabin a mile away from our new home.  Both sales have now been finalized, and our move to Brightwood will be "official" in July.  We’ve loved it here, but are transitioning to our new home - in an area with which we are so familiar that it hardly seems like moving at all.  There, our mushrooming careers will be sustained by visiting spots we've found over the years and exploring, looking for new ones.  And, of course, there will be trips back to Port Orford to visit friends and mushroom territories.

Revelations of our new life come swiftly as we explore and examine the landscape of our new surroundings. While the elevation is not far from the same, the weather, and consequently the flora and fauna, appear to be somewhat unique to each location.  Still, the two areas will have a lot in common, and lessons learned one place will assuredly translate to the other.

 

 Surely this is a very special "Welcome Wagon" gift
from the mushroom gods! 

Tradition in the Mushroom Fields

TRADITION- it counts for a lot in our family.

There are holiday traditions, such as a Christmas tree festooned with golden garlands and keepsake ornaments, or our annual hosting of neighbors for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner with a generous assortment of fixings.

There are weekend morning traditions made noteworthy by steaming coffee poured into fish-themed mugs, and by homemade biscuits topped with mushroom and sausage gravy.

Then there are traditions such as Steven serving as chef at the annual Hilaire's Wild Game Banquet for charity in Portland, which typically ushers in our traditional spring trek to Mt. Hood for Warted Giant Puffballs (Calbovista subsculpta) in late April or early May.

It's risky to break with tradition, and I am sure that history and myth are full of stories of those unfortunate creatures who have made such a choice. But that is never our choice when it comes to our first-of-the-year foray.

Therefore, after the Wild Game Banquet where Steven laboriously prepared tens of pounds of razor clams for 250 hungry diners, we packed a cooler bag, donned our mushroom hunting gear and headed up the slopes of this ancient (and active!) volcano known as Mt. Hood, full of anticipation of yet another adventure.

 

 Be vigilant.  Be observant.  Sometimes puffballs disguise
themselves as rocks or other debris.

Ode to Spring

OK, I'll confess.  I don't have the heart or the perseverance of a true gardener.  I am sure this is in part due to the prevalence of deer and other two and four-legged critters who have historically loved to nibble on everything that I've planted outdoors.  However, I do love to wander through woodlands, examining the vegetation, and I never cease to marvel gleefully at the intensity with which nature sends forth an abundance of vegetation to celebrate the arrival of spring. 

Hence, it was that recently I was meandering among the flowering currants, Oregon grape and towering trees in a wooded landscape near Brightwood, Oregon, when suddenly I encountered my first-of-the-year mushrooms, those endearing signs of the affirmation with which nature celebrates the arrival of yet another springtime. 

Never mind that the nighttime temperatures have been hovering in the low 30's, nor that the measurable rain has been in the inches, these mushrooms would not be foiled in their attempt to break through the duff and debris that littered the forest floor.  They were determined to herald the emergence of spring in their own way.

 

Early spring fungi (Sarcosoma) cluster together,
rejoicing as the harshness of winter departs.

Imagine That - Now There's Truffle Gin!

Some people like to dine on truffles.  Others, it now appears, like to drink theirs!  Introducing Truffle Gin, in two versions, White Truffle and Black Truffle ... the choice is yours.

 

These truffles didn't make it into the gin bottle.

 

Wild Rhododendron Blossoms and More Mushrooms in December - what great holiday gifts!

Can it really be true?  It has to be, because we captured these lovely coastal rhodies in full bloom on December 3rd.  The camera doesn't lie, and we don't either!

We never cease to be amazed by the intensity of life around us.

Ron LeValley preserves Honey Mushrooms in his own unique way

Ron LeValley of Fort Bragg, CA hails from just a ways south of our home near Port Orford on the southern Oregon coast.  Ron is, quite simply, the best nature photographer I know.  His knowledge of all kinds of things - birds, mammals, insects, and yes, mushrooms - borders on the encyclopedic.  We own a few of his prints which decorate the walls of our home, and each day, we receive an e-mail from him with a nature photograph; many are spectacular. He offers this free daily service, which he calls "Outside My Window," to anyone who signs up for it, and I highly recommend it; for us, it's a highlight of each day, and we've learned a lot from it.

A few days ago, his "Outside My Window" photo was especially unusual, as it featured a familiar mushroom (or, more properly, group of mushrooms) in a very unusual place: growing from a stump in the middle of a creek!  He indicated that they were Honey Mushrooms, and the locale was Russian Gulch State Park in Mendocino County.  Ron was using a Canon EOS 7D with Canon 28-135mm zoom lens.  He says he's never seen anything like it, and neither have we!